


Altitude

by kim_onka



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drama, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, but I am having fun with Maglor, i really don't know how to tag this, inspired by a friend's fic which is about something else, it is about Maedhros' inner demons and Elrond being a tiny scared child, it is really good too, kind of, oh and about elves being made into orcs, the author approves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 10:18:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3406994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kim_onka/pseuds/kim_onka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was exhilarating. / In which Maglor sits on the epaulement of his balcony. Recursive fanfiction, sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Altitude

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Matter of Will](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/99662) by Laerthel. 



The sensation of space, the awareness of height, of the sheer drop merely inches away from him.

It was exhilarating.

Makalaurë felt his skin prickle and tilted his head back, resting it against the wall.

It felt playful, and he smiled, ever so slightly, when he imagined – recalled – Russandol's expression of exasperation and ill-concealed fright. He had always loved it, this openness, this expanse, this _freedom_ , and he had always known, the way youths did ( _the twins did, too_ ) and their elders dared not be certain, that he would not fall.

Now, he was not so sure.

His eyelids fluttered shut, and there was naught but darkness and cool winter air around him; and it was elating.

It would be easy, falling. So easy.

So light, he thought, looking up to absorb the blackness of the firmament, the brightness of Elbereth's stars. So _liberating._

He shook off the thought, quickly, guiltily, almost bashfully.

How selfish, how _conceited_ to contemplate liberation, to dwell on the spine-tingling perspective of free fall when so many threads, so many chains bound him to the walls and chambers of this fortress.

_So many._

He heard a soft gasp, and turned around, alerted.

_Such as them._


End file.
